Home - Lost and Found
by TempestJuvano
Summary: Home, the first book in the series Lost and Found. Raina literally walks into the Supernatural World, from her safe, no-monsters world, and She's got to face her demons, which is something new for someone who's only read about things like these. Raina's now lost a home... Read as she finds one with the Boys. Do the Boys find home with her? Fluff, Feels and imagines.
1. Chapter 1

Home - Lost and Found...

Author's Note: Home is the first book, of a reader insert novel, Called Lost and Found. This is rather an introductory book, which is all fluff, and some mental problems. Some things are written on second hand experience, so if there are any suggestions, any mistakes, please mention them.

the story is about a girl, who finds herself in the Supernatural Universe. And here she finds out, that she isn't as simple, or strong as she thought - She has problems, with the transition, and the boys are there to take care off her.

This is an intended Dean X Reader work. I began it, but exploring the female character took too many chapters than intended, so i have extended this project onto another book, the working title of which is 'Alternate Universe'.

 **Chapter One**

Its early morning. I'm usually still sleeping, but today I've somehow gotten up way early. It isn't even completely bright, just faint, blue sky, cold breeze.

 _Sometimes dreams are too surreal to forget. They stay in your memory in form of broken pieces of a puzzle, floating in some unknown corner of your brain._

 _But the dream I had just now is different. I remember only that it was weird, but its weirdness was no match for the sense of peace that accompanied it. where was I in that virtual imagery, I don't remember – just blurred green landscape, possibly a meadow, then suddenly white sky, laden with bright clouds – and then, a feeling of rush, as if I was flying._

I should probably introduce myself before I narrate this amazing tale – I think it's amazing, but then I was in it. Tell me what you think of it, when you hear it, won't you, dear reader?

I'm Raina. Just Raina now. I lived in the University, the Girls' Hostel. The University itself is a jungle, roads running through deep cover, sunlight flitting in though foliage, of oh so many green shades.

The tale begins on an early morning, as I said before. I like mornings, and lazy sunny noon-s, and overcast evenings, and chilly but clear nights. I realize I'm rambling – so I'll just tell you what happened that morning…

.

.

I have woken up unusually early after many busy days, so I decide to go for an early walk, since it would be so beautiful to walk in the jungle in half dark, half-light, and see the nature come alive with sunrise. Good morning, Raina! I say to myself as I look for my track pants, but they're in way back of the closet, almost never used.

I'm not saying I'm fat, but I could be better with exercise. It would certainly help a little with my height. Just an inch short to five feet is way short, my mom keeps telling me. And I tell her I'm the reason a six feet guy feels tall.

So I just put on my yesterday's jeans, and a full-sleeved gray T shirt, since its cold outside. I put my earplugs in, connect my phone, slip it the back pocket of the jeans, and head out.

It is so breathtaking, the beauty nature presents to me at each step. I look around, mesmerized, walking the familiar paths.

The walk has done me good. I feel fresh; the use of my muscles is satisfying.

After half hour's walk, I decide to go back. I turn right, intending to circle back to the Hostel.

Few minutes later, I come to a Y-bend. And- - wait a minute-? There WASN'T supposed to be Y-bend here! It should have been just another right turn here.

I look at the road leading towards left. It's a narrow path, and since it's relatively darker, I can't make out where it leads to.

It looks beautiful. Serene, peaceful. As though its calling to me, I walk towards the path, my earlier decision to go back forgotten.

I feel like I've found a new treasure, as I devour the splendor this path offers to my senses. The greens, the browns, the rustle of wind moving through leaves, and relative silence.

I walk on, and I feel like I'm climbing up a slight slope. The air is cold, getting more so. It feels good on my sweaty face.

These are some places of the jungle I had never earlier seen. But there are lots of places in the University I hadn't yet explored, so I think this is one of it.

The slope is now going down, as the road turns. I'm walking down now, and it's much easier and faster, although there is thick fog now, I suddenly notice.

I walk down, and the path is now a little larger, merging into small road that's turning around a small hill-like structure. I am wondering where the hill came from, as I walk on, and the fog suddenly lifts, clears.

And this _feels_ familiar. Like something out of dream.

I keep walking, noticing the road sloping down further, and then to my left, as I walk, I see a structure I had only ever seen on a laptop screen.

No. No way, no way in Heaven or Hell, I scream to myself in my head. This is all a dream. It has to be. The best Dream, but still only a dream, and I'm about to wake up now.

But the waking never comes.

I reach the top of small steps that led to a door underground. Now I know why the forest felt familiar.

I was at the Bunker. The Men of Letters Bunker.

My brain tries to reason against reality.

Oh Come on. This isn't the same bunker. Hell, it might not even be a bunker. Supernatural is a TV show, not real. Get out of the Trance, idiot, wake up, Raina...

But as I walk down the stairs, the symbol on the door clearly stands out – Men of Letters.

.

.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I'm still dazed.

What do I do?

This is like Fan fictions that I've read. Inter-dimensional travel, alternate universe blah blah… this cannot possibly be happening to me; I scoff to myself inside my head.

.

 _Do dreams ever come true? – Scratch that – dreams are uncontrolled imaginations of an unconscious conscience. Do fantasies ever come true?_

 _And what is the price, the unconsidered, ignored realities that one must face when it does really come true?_

The only way to be sure? Knock on the door.

My brain advises me to knock on the door, and its couple of minutes before I actually raise my hand, and knock loudly, three times.

.

.

For a few minutes, I just wait. Nothing happens. No sound. I sit on the bottom step, tired, sweaty and hot. I'm convinced this is a dream, just a little more vivid than usual.

I feel a little relieved, that this may not be really the bunker. It is all well to read the stories and see the show and wish I was there, wish I met the boys.

But in reality, I'm panicking. I'm scared.

I feel lighter as I decide to get up and walk back the way I came. I stand up, and am about to climb out, when the door sounds.

My heart literally jumps to my throat, and I press a palm over my chest as I turn towards the door.

And now I'm desperately clutching my throat, trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my mouth.

Dean Frigging Winchester is standing at the door, pointing a gun at me…!?

.

.

 _I – Dean –Dean! Dean? Really? But- then- I'm – am I – dream- walk- I – here – Sam? – Bunker – but – different – country – how- how – hell-_

 _I close my eyes, one hand still on the throat, take deep breaths._

 _I – I'm going to wake up now. Come on Raina – you can do this._

I wait a few seconds before I blink my eyes open again.

And I clutch my throat harder as the heart leaps up again, out of sheer shock. My eyes see darkness as I almost faint, but I blink, trying to remember to stay awake.

"Hey! Hey, can you hear me? Hey kiddo, you okay? What's going on?"

I can hear the words coming from far away, finally being able to string them together to make sense.

I focus my eyes ahead of me.

As the vision clears, I see that familiar face, that lovely radiant face _, which I had come to love,_ and I see his lips move. I concentrate, trying to understand what he was saying.

"Who are you?"

I see a gun in his hand, still pointed at me. Out of some reflex I lift my hands up above my head.

"I – I'm Raina." I hoarsely speak.

"Raina." He repeats it. "I'm Dean."

 _I know, I know! My brain is screaming as he says that._

"Yeah." I take a few deep breaths, and slowly release my hand that's clutching the throat.

"You okay, Raina?" he asks, lowering his gun as I sit down on the bottom step.

I shake my head, unable to say anything.

"Hey, you need help?" he asks, unable to understand how to deal with this situation.

I nod, not looking at him. It's too much, like directly looking into sunlight.

"Hey, come on. Come inside." He says, and I see a hand extended in front of me.

I know I would never be able to stand without assistance. I place my palm in his, and suddenly a large breeze whips over, as if some sort of explosion took place somewhere near.

I'm scared, and I stand up in shock. He seems to notice my fright, as he holds my hand tighter in his, and slowly leads me inside, closing the door behind us.

We get down the staircase one step at a time, and I see the hall and library of the bunker in front of me.

"Oh my God." I whisper as it all comes into my vision. I almost faint again, and I sway. Dean gingerly holds onto my other shoulder, steadying me.

 _"Srirama!" I am a Hindu and I whisper one of the many names of my Gods, Lord Srirama, on instinct, on habit._

Dean doesn't get my whispers, only leads me towards one of the wooden chairs, and sets me in one. "Stay here, okay?" He says. I am still not looking at him. I nod, and he walks out of the library.

I'm- I'm thinking too many things at the same time, and its muddling my brain, and there's this feeling of falling in a bottomless pit, and there's this warmth I feel, which I know is because I 've seen Dean Winchester.

All of this, it's too much to take in. I'm shaking with excitement, with fear, dread. I believe this is called hyperventilation.

 _How did I get here? How did- why me?_

 _Why here?_

 _Oh GOD Dean! He's so – words fail me._

 _And the library! I cannot believe I am in the bunker – in the library – THE Library!_

.

.

I don't see Sam until he's standing in front of me, across the table. As he comes into view, I tilt my head upwards to look at him, and a fresh wave of shock hits me. I sit stunned, unable to hear or speak, just like I had with Dean.

 _Again, my heart jumps delightedly, with love that comes rushing at the sight of Sam._

And suddenly, I am rudely awakened, with water on my face.

I shake out of my stunned state, wiping my face and eyes. I open my eyes, and Dean is standing with a flask. _Holy water, I assume._

"Sam." I breathe his name, quietly, but loud enough for them to hear.

"What did you say?" Sam asks.

"Sam. Sam." I repeat, looking up at him, taking in the sleepy hair, in all its glory.

"How do you know my name?" He asks, pulling a chair out, and sitting down. Dean sits down too, both looking at me.

"I- I know you. Winchester Boys." I say. I sense their hostility, and I'm scared because it's directed at me, because they don't know who I am, or what I am, and what's going on.

All I can think of is getting them to understand my situation.

I know what I must tell them, but even in my head it sounds so ridiculous that I'm sure they wouldn't trust me. After all, even if they can believe it, what's to say they won't think I'm lying?

" _How_ do you know us?" Dean repeats.

I raise a hand, gesturing for a minute to calm down.

Once I feel like I have the control of my faculties, I take a deep breath, and begin to explain.

"I was in my university today morning, taking a walk-" Dean rolls his eyes a bit, while Sam looks at me, focused. I look from one brother to other as I speak.

"I took a new road, a path I had never seen before, to explore it," I sag into the chair. I'm tired. "I walk on, to take a few turns and suddenly, I'm in front of the bunker." The boys look at each other and then me as I say bunker.

"I was so surprised. I was just- and I knocked. I wanted to see - If it really was THE Bunker. And I can't – just – too much to believe it's really you." I say. "Oh, and, My University, It's in um- in India."

The expressions on the faces of both the boys were priceless. The bewilderment, confusion. Then I realize I began my explanation at the wrong end, omitting the most important part of it.

"Boys?" I say, quietly, interrupting their internal thoughts.

"Yeah?" Sam replies.

"Do you remember the time Balthazar sent you into another universe where Supernatural is a TV show?" I ask, knowing that was how they'd believe me.

"How do you- Dean begins, only to realize what I was hinting, and he shuts up, with and 'Oh' on his face.

"So you're from that - Sam says, eyes flashing with surprise as he hears the revelation.

"Well, not exactly that Universe. I'm possibly from a similar universe, because where you went, Misha, the actor playing Cass – Castiel, died, and so did number of other people. But Misha's alive and well in my Universe, and the Show's still on."

I tell them, feeling slightly comfortable talking about something familiar and near to my heart.

"Son of a Bitch." Dean utters.

"Something like that, yeah." I say, unable to stop the smile that has been pushing to shine on my face for a few minutes now. A wry smile appears on my face as I look at them both, filling my soul with the sight.

What happens now? I wonder.

.

.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

"So, what's going on here?" I ask them, as they sit there, taking in all I've told them.

"Um-

"I mean with you boys. What was the last big bad evil you fought?" I ask, clarifying. I need to know where the story is at.

"Amara." Dean replies, looking at me intently. I fight a blush that wants to creep to my cheeks, and I nod. "Oh. So she and God huh, they're gone?"

"Yeah. This is trippy." Dean said, smiling a half-smile.

"Yup. I know." I smile wanly too. "So how much do you know?" Sam asks.

"Actually, if Amara's just gone, that's actually where last season ended. So I'm on the same page as you guys." I tell them.

"Oh. Well, it at least saves a whole lot of explaining." Sam says, shrugging, with a quick half smile that somehow reaches his eyes. _Oh the lines on his face will be the death of me._

 _They say don't meet your idols. But no one tells you what to do when you do actually meet them. What do I say?_

 _Fantasy, fictions, fairy tales are all good in stories, and I admit reality is sometimes too bland, and a wisp of the magic would certainly be great._

 _But when the magic really comes, are you really ready?_

A minute later, I'm sipping water from a glass Sam got me. They're both in the kitchen now, talking. ***** I had expected this, but it's been a few minutes and I'm curious.

I stand up, and take a round of the living room/hall, running my hand across the chairs, and then I'm exploring the books. The sight of wall full of books has me bubbling, and I'm grazing my fingers on spines of the books, stopping to read an occasional title.

"AAhmm." I hear clearing of throat, and turn around to see Sam standing in the door.

"Hey." I say, not knowing what was coming next.

"So, um we think something brought you here. It may be something to with God, or Amara, or just angel stuff – but we don't know yet." Sam begins, and Dean interrupts. "We need to find out who brought you here."

"I thought I could just try walking back the way I came." I suggest, I have been thinking about it. there is this wild feeling, like missing a bus – I'm running; the bus is leaving before I can even reach the bus-stop – and I know I need just – one more burst of speed – and I may catch it. I need to see if that portal – I'm calling it portal now, if it's open.

Dean looks at Sam first and then me, and I honestly feel the burning blush on my cheeks. "Think that'll work?" He asks Sam.

"We gotta try." Sam shrugs his shoulders, looking at me.

"I –

I feel the need to explain. "I feel like I came in through a portal, see? I don't think it's still there, but just feel like I gotta see for myself." Sam nods, looking at me. "Let's go." says Dean, moving towards the door.

"Dean- I don't know – will it work with you there?" I say, or wonder out loud and I don't know why I say that. It's just a feeling that this isn't going to work, but if it did, that portal thingy would only open for me.

"But how would we know?" Dean asks, and we look at each other.

"We'll come looking say, twenty minutes or so later." Sam suggests.

.

.

I'm walking for some time now, and I see nothing of the earlier road. The sun is out and bright, and it's a little hotter. No fog, no green path. I keep walking, desperate, and frankly, very scared.

What if I'm stuck here forever?

 _Nahi,_ come on Raina, _asa vichar nako karu…_ (No, Come on Raina, don't think like that,) I keep saying to myself as I take each step forward, hoping that now, the portal will appear, the road will turn and take me back home.

A turn comes in sight and I feel relieved that I'm not going to be stranded like those fictions I have lately been reading.

Shit. _Mi photo ghyayla paije hote,_ (I should have taken photos) I realize as I walk on, feeling that home was nearer, and that I would never see the boys again. _fangirling, ah._

And I walk on.

.

.

It's been an hour at least, I'm sure. I've climbed all the way up on the hill.

There was in illusion for some time, when the road had forked and the forest cover had thickened, but I know now that there is no going back this way. For now at least, I'm stuck here. I try not to think about the fear that thought is creating in my heart.

I give up walking finally. I collapse, not being able to think straight anymore. Panic takes over.

 _What are you going to do? You just lost that bloody bus back to HOME_. My Panic-ridden inner self demands. _What about home? There are people there – that are going to know you're missing. And how will they find you here? How are you going to get out of this?_

It feels like everything is collapsing on me, trying to smother me. I take deep breaths, trying to break to surface from the weird that's trying to drown me.

There is another inner self, the timid, hallucination-prone self – she has also awoken from her slumber. _IS this even REALITY? Are you sure? Really sure? This – can this be real? Are you dreaming Raina? Is this a dream, or a delirium that you are trapped in?_

Time passes. I'm sitting on the road, leaning against a large rock – suspended in a limbo where my different selves drag me hither and tither.

I vaguely remember; I have to go down to the boys. But I can't seem to make the suffocation I feel go away. I can't think about anything but breathing, and I focus, counting my breathing.

.

.

A few minutes later, I hear footsteps. Running.

I'm scared. I have no idea who – or what this can be. This world is more dangerous than mine, I remind myself, and all the monsters from the show flash across my eyes.

I suddenly feel the absence of weapon on me. It's like being naked in middle of a crowd. I hear someone run up. I hide behind the rock.

"Is she gone then?" I hear Sam's voice. "Maybe. We didn't find her anywhere." Dean asked.

It's them. _They're here. They Came._ The boys have come to confirm if I'm still here. I try to stand up, but the drowning feeling has made my legs weak.

"Um… Boys?" I say, raising a hand, to let them know where I am. I have no idea if they have heard me.

I count again: One, breath in, Two, breath out, Three, breath in…

.

I hear the footsteps come closer, and suddenly the two giant figures are looming in my eyesight. I look up at them, blinking, and there is a small pause as they look at me, leaning against the rock.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I pause for a long breath, "but I think I'm stuck here." I say, as calmly as possible. The ropes that seemed to be strangling me seem to loosen a little when I see their faces. _All my inner talk has suddenly ceased. Perhaps it's the company._

I lean back against the rock, and no one says anything for a minute. I close my eyes, the suffocation lifting slowly. Sam kneels down near me. "Hey."

I look at him, still counting in my head.

"Let's go down, ok?"

I just nod, and try to stand up. But my legs refuse to change back from jelly.

Suddenly there are two hands stretched out in front of me. One's Dean's and the other's Sam's. I don't think as I take both hands with both mine, and they heave me into standing position. I take a few steps, and find out that the use of my legs has come back.

.

.

We are back at the bunker, and I'm drinking another glass of water. My throat is parched, and the invisible weight on my chest is still there, although breathing has become easier.

"So? What happened?" Dean asks.

"Nothing." I answer, quietly. No one says anything for a few minutes.

"Maybe Cass can help." Dean suggests. "Yeah, I mean, Balthazar was able to send us, so Cass can definitely do so." Sam agrees.

I smile a little at the thought of finally getting to meet Cass, remembering Misha.

.

.

.

.

 ***Extra Sub Chapter – The Boys' POV, when Raina is sitting in the library after Sam gives her a glass of water, and the boys go to the kitchen to discuss what to do.**

 _Dean pulls Sam aside as they walk away from the library, where the strange little girl sits. Dean's a bit wary – as he has all rights to be. "Sam – you don't think she's –_

 _"No. I think she's telling the truth. I mean, look at her. She's shaking." Sam says, looking into his brother's eyes. They've made sure she's not a demon, and to Sam she doesn't look like a monster._

 _"Could be acting." Dean shrugs. You can't be too careful these days. Little girls who look innocent turn out to be The Darkness and feed on souls._

 _"Who else knows about the – the trip to –_

 _"Crazytown?" Dean offers, knowing what Sam is referring to._

 _"Yeah – well, only you, Cass, me and Balthazar, knew about this, oh and Raphael and Virgil. But except for Cass the rest are all dead. And this was way after Chuck's writing stopped. I checked, there is nothing else after –_

 _"Yeah. I know." Dean interrupts. "But how did – why is she here? I mean, this is clearly some angel mojo involvement, and with us there was a reason." Dean argues._

 _Sam offers an explanation – or a sort of lead. "If this thing's a show there, that means, there are no angels there. This means, someone from our end of the line made the call. We just need to find out who and why."_

 _"That's gonna be super easy." Dean scoffs. "It's not like angels are at our beck and call - They must be pissed with Lucifer still out there, and the whole business with us letting the Darkness out in the first place. Plus chuck's gone, again, and I'm sure we're getting the blame for that as well." Dean's slightly irritated. "We need Cass. And he's not answering his cell phone." Dean holds up his cell._

 _"Have you tried praying?" Sam offers, and Dean shakes his head._

 _"Anyway, I think we should talk to her, find out who she is. Maybe something about her will give us a clue about why she got dumped here." Sam says, and walks out…_

 _._

 _._

 _Author's Note:_

 _Please, please tell me if you like where this is going._


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

I feel weak; physical exertion has its toll, but the mental activity has also been too much. I feel like I want to shut down – power off like a cell phone.

 _Rama, Srirama, Kuthe ahat? Mala madat kara – mala ghari nya. Deva please, please yaa…_

 _(Rama, Srirama, where are you? help me – take me home. God please, please come (help)…)  
Deva means God, in Hinduism – not to be confused with Daevas that Meg invoked. (Season 1)_

I pray to my gods, involuntarily as I do whenever in trouble.

I am distracted by Dean's loud voice. It appears the Cass isn't answering his cell phone. Dean decides to pray.

"Castiel, I pray to you, please come back here, we need your help." Dean prays, and then peeks through one eye. "Nothin?"

"Nope." Sam answers. My face falls, dejected. I have been hoping Cass could take me back home.

"Hey, it's okay. He'll be back. He's probably busy. I promise you, we'll find a way for you." Sam tells me, sitting in the chair beside me. I look into his eyes. Earnestness, it shines there.

 _Grief isn't exactly a similar experience for everyone – everybody deals in their own way._

 _How does it feel to discover your own way of grieving, I wonder?_

 _How does grief hit you? Does it drown, as they say? Or does it burn, lot like hell?_

 _Who knows, truly?_

 _And I suddenly realize that the men in front of me do. They know this grief well._

.

I look around, sitting on the chair still, blankly gazing, and this is what I see:

Sam, sitting to my right, eyes closed. I wonder what he's thinking about.

The lights shine on the rows of books that I glance upon, without taking in any detail. I have no thoughts – My brain has been stunned into inaction.

As I move my eyes across the room, I see Dean leaning against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. His hands go up to move through his hair for a second, and come down to hang by his side once again.

I feel here like I'm trespassing. I know I'm the victim here- but- I'm just another problem imposed by the universe or someone out there, on the boys, for no apparent reason. I don't want to be trouble.

My eyes well up as I think about this –

I'm lonely.

No one in this world knows me. I LITERALLY don't belong here.

I think about going out there, telling the boys it's alright, don't bother getting me back, I'll learn to live here.

But I don't want to. As much as I love the boys, there is somewhere I truly exist; where I have my world, my people.

I remember; mom, dad, sister; and then a few friends…

I close my eyes, trying to hold back the dams. The boys don't need one more thing to worry about. _You're just a burden, Raina._ The voice in my head suddenly pops. I ignore it – I don't know what else to do. I've talked to myself before – but I knew that was the real me, who cared and loved me. This voice feels malevolent. _Where are these voices coming from?_ I wonder.

After I feel that I won't cry, I open my eyes.

"Guys?" I say. Both of them look at me. "Can- can I please lie down somewhere?" I just want to be alone to figure out my thoughts. _And make the hammering in my head stop._

"Yeah sure." Sam says.

"I'll show you to a room." Dean says as he walks towards a door. I stand up, and follow him. He leads me to a room down the corridor, and opens the door for me.

"If you need something, we're going to be in the library." Dean says, as I walk in, to sit on the bed. The room's just like they've shown on the show. But this one's bare, and I realize no one lives here.

"Okay." I say, looking at Dean. He retreats out, closing the door on his way out.

I stretch on the bed, the mattress taking in my shape. Suddenly, Dean's lines from the show waft in my head… "It remembers me!" I smile a little, feeling lot lighter as I pass out into a fitful sleep, mercifully.

.

.

Knock.

Knock-knock! Knock-knock!

Creeeeeeek.

I hear the sounds, and turn in the bed. " _Kon ahe? Ek minute! Yetey," (Who is it? One minute! coming,)_ I reply in my mother tongue. It must be my roommate a-knocking on my hostel room door, I think as I turn again onto other side.

I hear footsteps, and I flicker my eyes open - for a minute I cannot recognize where I am. I get up, suddenly, sitting up in the bed, and look everywhere.

Seeing Sam brings everything back, rushing in my brain. _Ow. That makes a buzz in my head._

"Hey." He says, standing in the door. "Hey, um." I reply, trying to smooth down my shirt and my hair. Suddenly I realize I'm in front of Sam Winchester, looking like my bedraggled self. I blush and cringe inwardly at the thought.

"What's wrong?" he asks. He looks at me awkwardly, and there is sudden realization in the room, that we don't really know each other.

"Nothing. I just thought I was asleep at my hostel room." I reply sheepishly, hoping I don't look too bad.

"Oh. Um, I thought you'd be hungry. Want to have lunch?" He asks, smiling in a bedside manner. _I'm not sick - But I am not feeling well._

I rub my eyes a little, and nod yes. "Come on then." he waits at the door.

I stand up, pushing aside the covers, and putting back my hair up in a bun.

I follow Sam to the bunker kitchen, where Dean's unpacking things out of wrapping.

"Hey Sleepy." He nods at me, while Sam takes a seat at the table, and pushes a chair towards me. I sit down, and Dean places all the food items in front of me. There are three burgers, a salad, and a coke.

I look warily at all the food. What should I be eating? Salad is probably Sam's but the burgers probably have beef –

"Hey, what's the matter?" Dean asks, pushing a burger towards me.

"Um," I hesitate. I know Dean's going to be a little surprised with this. "Does this have beef or bacon or something in it?" I ask, looking suspiciously at the burger.

"Please don't tell me you're a vegetarian." Dean says, rolling his eyes.

"Well-

"Hell." Dean exclaims. I'm a little indignant. But to see him do things he's done on screen is a little adorable.

"I eat chicken and eggs. That's the only non-vegetarian things I eat. We're basically vegetarians, my family." I tell him patiently.

"So you're semi-vegetarian?" he asks, taking a bite of his burger.

"Something like that. We're basically vegetarians, but with time we've begun to eat non veg. I've only had chicken and eggs so far, but beef and pork are forbidden strictly in my religion. Actually, all animal meat is forbidden, but those are taboos." I tell them.

"Why?"

"Cows are sacred to Hindus, Dean." Sam interrupts. I look at him, surprised. "I figured you'd be a Hindu, most Indians are." He said, as an explanation.

"Well, you're not wrong." I say, leaning back into the chair. "We've this belief that anyone who lets beef touch them, goes to hell after they die. Cows are like mothers in Hindu culture. Milk of the cows is treated like nectar." I speak, feeling comfortable talking about something from home.

"Wow. That's a heavy punishment for just eating meat." Dean says, through all the food in his mouth. I smile, it is so adorable. "Dean-" Sam admonishes him.

"You realize I've seen Dean do that, well, a guy who looks like Dean do that lots of times?"

Both of them pause and look at me with somewhat of a horrified expression on their faces. "Anyway," I say, to break the silence. "What do I eat then?" I ask, looking at all the food on the table.

Sam pushes his salad towards me. "Here."

"Oh, no, what will you eat?"

"I'll uh- eat one of the burgers." Sam says, eyeing the burger with a little distaste.

"You know what Sam, let's share the salad. I'm not that hungry anyway." I say, pushing the salad to middle. _I'm not going to be a hindrance._ I pick up a spoon, and take the salad.

Its- well, the salad isn't what I'm used to and it tastes foreign. Dean's looking at my face as I chew it. "She doesn't like your Salad, Sam," Dean says, laughing, looking at my face as the bland taste of the vegetables.

"No, no, it's just a little different." I say, covering up, taking another bite. Dean's laughing.

.

.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

 _Little things matter a lot sometimes. And then suddenly they just don't, which is why they are little things._

 _Things like – waking up to a certain noise, like saying hello to someone on your way every day, like patting a familiar dog, like an irritating song stuck in your brain._

 _Where do these things go in crisis? Why do these things sometimes become the crisis?_

.

.

After lunch, Sam clears up, refusing my help, and Dean takes me out of the kitchen. "It's his turn today." he says, leading me out to the library.

"So what's your world like?" he asked, settling down in a chair and putting up his legs on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what's your life like? What do you do? Or did- or-" he asks.

"Oh. Okay. I'm a student. I'm studying Biotech, and I'm currently in the post graduate course…" I say, and I realize that the longer I'm here, the more my losses in studies. The horror displays on my face.

"College huh? Whew! Hey, where'd you get lost?" he says, clicking his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Um- nothing. It's just, I don't know if I'm going to finish that course." I tell him, and a sympathetic look comes over his face. That irks me. So I continue talking with different subject. "I was born and brought up in India; I'm a Hindu, since of course my parents are. I was living at the Uni -."

"India…" Dean exclaims, "The Land of –

"Don't! Don't you say that!" I interrupt, knowing very well what he was about to say.

"You don't even know what-

"I know." I say, calmly. "You were going to say, the Land of Kama Sutra. That is not all what India is, Dean." I say ruefully.

"I know that." Dean is looking extremely sheepish, red and caught, which means I have hit the nail on the head. "But I don't know much about India – I've met Kali – and

"That was not the Kali I know. I suppose things are different here." I suddenly realize that. I remember the stories; the myths and legends, tales of Gods and Men and Asuras.

"You know Kali?" Dean is surprised.

"Not personally. She's a Goddess, Dean, and I worship her."

"Oh." Dean looks positively awkward.

"Like any Christian worshipper in my world – where it isn't all REAL." I emphasize, "Let me explain: there are about 33 million gods and goddesses in Hindu religion, and out of them, there are three most supreme. The creator – Bramha, Vishnu - the Maintainer, And Shiva – the destroyer. His wife is Parvati and her other name is Kali – the goddess of all power and energy. See? She's married, and she has two sons, Ganesh and Karthik." I say, and wait for the reaction.

As I expected he burst out – "Ganesh is her SON?"

"Yeah."

"The Elephant –

"There's a story behind it too." I say, warming up to the topic.

"Son of a – this is very complicated." Dean comments.

"I know Dean. I was actually little irritated at the way Kali was portrayed, as Gabe's - well, I hadn't like that episode for several reasons." I shrug. "I've been watching supernatural for about three years now, and I've seen it all, from the pilot to the last episode of the last season. It's my favorite show." I ramble, but Dean listens attentively. "Okay," he's a little dubious about the show.

"So how old are you?" I hear Sam ask as he walks in to join us.

"Um, I'll be 24 in a few months." I say.

"Hey Sam, you should listen to the stories she was just tellin'. About Kali - guess what – Ganesh is her SON." Dean is snickering a little.

"Oh, really?" Sam makes an awkward face, looking at me. "Well, in my world he is. Here – I don't know. That's why I'm – I'm shy to pray here." I say without thinking through, confessing my wish to pray.

"How are you keeping up with all this?" Sam asks, genuinely concerned.

"Oh, I'm- dealing. Trying. I was reading a fan-fiction the other day, in that a fan of the show, she somehow wakes up in your world, around the start of apocalypse. That gives me a little guideline kind of thing to cope up but it's so different when it actually happens to you, compared to reading about it…" I relate, finding that talking about things I know about is making me feel a little comfortable.

"What's Fan-fiction?" Dean asks.

"You know, writing fiction about you guys. It doesn't have to follow the original story line, and writers can insert original characters or themselves into the story. I bet the fans of Supernatural books do that here," I say, and I get to see the reaction I had been awaiting.

Dean's face is incredulous. "I don't get it man. Why do people want to write about us? They don't know how difficult it really is. For them we're just fictional characters. But that shit, all that you've read or – or seen, we've been through it."

Dean begins a rant, I sense, but I stop him by raising my hand.

"May I say something? Hear me out, okay?" I've wanted to say this to Dean for a long time.

"I write fictions, mostly romantic, where either of you meet someone; and they integrate themselves into your lives, accepting you for the person you are. I write to give you boys happy endings, the apple pies and whatnot. At least in my mind, I want to make it all right.

It's difficult for fans to see your pain, you know. Imagine thousands of people, watching you on a screen or reading about you on a book, and feeling angry with fate for dealing you the rotten hands it has in the past. People sympathize with your cause, want to come to this world just to help you however they can.

You aren't just heroes anymore, Dean. You're like brand ambassadors – for campaigns like 'Family don't end with blood', 'Do it with a smile', 'Always keep fighting'."

I pause, and I register the way both boys are looking at me. They're welling up with emotions they cannot name. I suddenly feel conscious of having said something wrong.

"Wow, kiddo. You got so emotional so fast." Dean said, clearing his throat a bit.

"Well, I can't take it when someone says anything bad about you boys, even if it's you I'm going to fight." I say, making an adamant face.

"Thanks, Raina." Sam says, smiling a little, his fists balled up.

"Yeah, thanks, I guess." Dean says too.

"Well, you don't have to thank me for loving you. You're awesome, and how can anyone not fall in love with you I don't know." I say this, my eyes fixed on the table trying to not blush.

.

.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

 _When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade._

 _Well, when life suddenly uproots you and flings you into weirdness, then what?_

.

My head still feels a little heavy, so I excuse myself and go back to the room. It's only a few minutes before I fall back into sleep. It's like I exhausted my body by travelling across a complete universe.

Few minutes later, I wake up, suddenly. There was a weird jumble of dream in my head as I slept, but I couldn't make anything out, except a dark night, and a wild hurricane. I shake my head; I don't understand this at all.

I shift and roll in the bed for a while, trying to get comfortable. My head slightly hurts; I need more sleep. But an hour later, I can't stay in the bed any longer.

I feel my throat parched yet again. So I walk in the general direction of the kitchen, when I overhear a dialogue.

"So what? How's that going to help her any?" Sam is saying.

"I just think with Cass still out there, we should be out there too. I know the kid needs us, but I'm just not comfortable taking her on hunts," Dean Replies.

"But we still have no clue where Cass is." Sam reminds him.

"Yeah, I know. But we'll get something soon, we're bound to." Dean replies. He seems eager to go back into the field so quickly.

My heart sinks a little as I realize I'm tying them down; I'm getting in the way. I think about getting away, going on my own, but I'm helpless here.

 _I'm useless._

Where is this coming from? I shake my head, and try to think clearly.

I walk to the kitchen, and pour myself a glass of water. I drink it, and my throat feels better.

But there is a nagging feeling in my head, related to the conversation I heard.

 _I'm a burden. I am a liability._ The voice in my head reiterates.

 _Oh come on. I didn't ask for this._ I am thoroughly confused with my own behavior – why am I riding myself so hard? I never did that before.

 _I know. But you can't rise to the occasion either – that's the trouble. You're all talk – no action._

 _What am I supposed to do? Hunt?_

Wait a second. _What if- what if I could hunt? What if I could help?_

 _._

 _._

When I walk back towards the library, I hear silence which means the talk is over. I quietly enter, to see Sam working on his laptop, and Dean nowhere to be seen.

"Hey Sam." I say, as I walk up to him. I have to talk to him. Ask him, to teach me to hunt.

I have this feeling that he's going to say no – and really, I have no right to ask him to do that for me.

"Hey." He glances at me and then goes back to his laptop.

"Working on a case?" I ask, standing behind him. I cannot muster the courage.

"Um – actually, looking for something about inter-universe travel." He says, shortly.

"Oh" I say, as I realize he's looking for a solution for me. "I'd like to help." I say. Maybe I can help this way, to start with.

"Okay." Sam says, and hands me a book. It describes Angels – like it's a manual on angels, and soon I'm lost in the lore on the Seraphim.

.

.

Few hours and a dinner of Chicken burgers later I sit in my room, going through the book. I haven't found anything useful in this about my situation, but the knowledge is fascinating, and I'm lost. Books of all sorts are always my undoing, and as long as I'm reading, the bad feeling, and the voices, all that shit – it just melts away.

Its eleven, my phone tells me, while also showing me a note saying that I need to charge it. I walk up to Dean's room where he was sitting with his headphones on again. I stand in the doorway, almost literally ogling him.

A few seconds later, I'm still looking at him, and he spots me –There is nowhere to run now.

"What are you doing there?" he asks, eyeing me.

"UM- nothing." I say, shaking my head. _He's way too good-looking._

"Really?" he says a little grin at the corner of his lips.

"Uh-huh. Just, standing here, ogling you." I say, dazed by that grin, unable to filter the thought in my head.

 _Oh-No. What the hell did I just SAY?_

"Ogling me?" Dean's taken off his headphones and is attentively waiting for my explanation.

"Well, have you seen you? It's like fine wine. Just getting better and better and better…

I ramble. I literally lose all power to control my thoughts blurting out of my mouth once I start. "I mean, the moment I first saw you I knew there was no forgetting that face."

There is a hint of a blush as he scratches the back of his head, feeling a little awkward at my straightforward compliments.

"I mean," I continue now, I can't stop for some inexplicable reason. "I mean, damn, the Winchester genes are too much. I mean your dad, look at the guy, handsome as hell, and then you, smoking hot, and Sam, well; he's just absolutely gorgeous."

"Whoa!" Dean interrupts, raising his hands. "So you like Sam, do you?" He asks, after a second's pause.

"What's not to like?" I'm in my element now, all awkwardness forgotten. "But I was always a Dean girl anyway." I tell him, and I blush a little.

"What's a Dean girl?" he asks, beckoning me over sit.

"Don't you remember when you first found out about the supernatural books?" I remind him of the Dean fans and Sam fans and the slash fans discussion from way back.

He thinks and I see his expressions change as he remembers. "Oh."

"Yeah." I say, smiling a little smugly. _Naughty naughty!_ The voice of my inner self teases _. Being too forward, are we?_ Another inner self glares at me.

"So what did you come here about?" He asks, trying to change the subject.

"I uh- needed a charger for my phone. Can I borrow yours?" I ask – I see I've made things awkward. I cannot wait to run out of here now, thank you very much.

"Oh. It's there," he points. "Take it to your room if you need to."

"Oh no that's okay. I'm going to the library anyway. I'll leave it here. It's not like someone's going to call me." I say, as I walk out. A little clot forms in my throat at the last line, but I push it down and ignore it, distracting myself with the surroundings.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

 _All I want to do is trade this life for something new, holding on to what I haven't caught…_

 _Do I though? Did I really want out from the boring reality of my universe that I catapulted myself into another Universe? Or is this just some haze, some hallucination and I've finally gone mad?_

 _Come to think of it, why does anyone go mad?_

 _When you're pushed to your limits? Or to break away from the limits?_

 _I honestly don't know._

.

I keep reading the book, and I'm halfway through it. I sense the night growing but I can't sleep. Sam's been in for few minutes, told me to go to sleep, but I can't. I feel wide awake and scared to go to bed.

I wanted to try and listen to my lullaby playlist, the songs that are guaranteed to put me to sleep. But I remember; I don't have my earphones either, and somehow I'm not comfortable playing them out loud. Anyway, I tiptoe back to Dean's room, but it's locked. So that means my phone's in there. Great.

I walk back to my room, with no way to know what time it is. I crawl into the bed, leaving the journal on the bedside table.

For a few minutes, I'm blankly staring at the ceiling. I try to shut my eyes and wait for sleep to come to me.

But instead that weight on my chest from the morning, it decides to return.

 _All the thoughts about home rush in, about being here, while my there languishes. What will my parents thing? Will they worry that I just disappeared? When will they realize- I was supposed to call tonight._

 _My college, my work, my – my friends? What about it? What about my life?_

 _If it turns out to be anything like those fictions, I'm probably not making it back. I just hope that if I can't go back, at least my parents memories would be wiped-_

 _They wouldn't remember me._

 _My mom. My dad. They wouldn't remember their little Raina._

I'm shifting and turning in the bed, trying not to think about my predicament. But now that I'm all alone, the tears finally flow out. And I let them.

 _How did this all happen?_

 _That one temptation – of that road, - it has cost me. Why did- why did I have to walk through there?_

I deride myself for all that has happened, for not being strong – I haven't died yet, have I?

Some other person must be dying to be where you are… I think of all fans back home. _Let them switch places with me then – Family is everything – and as much as I love the boys – there is a family elsewhere, my family. Even the boys wouldn't want me to abandon my home._

I'm ashamed of crying in front of anyone, but it is just me here, all alone.

I cry silently, until the tears dry up. My body's heaving with dry sobs now, and I'm on the floor, rolled up into a ball, clutching my sides.

I hum; an old melody from home comes haunting, and it feels better to sing it than avoid it, much like an addiction for pain.

And so, I never fall asleep. I just stay in the bed all night, avoiding all thoughts. And it is damn difficult to avoid thinking of something, when those thoughts are all you're head's got.

.

.

My eyes are a little red the next morning, and I'm up before everyone else. I roam the empty bunker, afraid to venture beyond regions I was introduced to. I go to the kitchen, and I'm trying to make sense of things when I hear footsteps and I turn around to see Sam.

 _Hmmm. A girl could get used to the gorgeous sight like this._ Whoa! Where are these thoughts coming from? I'm surprised.

He's all awake and bright, and his smile lights up the room. My breath hitches a little as he speaks.

"Hey, Good morning."

"Good morning Sam. Going for a run?" he is dressed in track pants. He nods, surprised.

"You're an early riser." He comments as he fills his water bottle. Seeing him do that normal action, is somehow very weird for me. _He's so tall. So, so tall._

 _And the hair, oh my god. It's falling around his face in a soft glory, and I can't stop staring at it._

 _Maybe I should accept this. Till Cass comes, I'm the luckiest Supernatural Fan in my world._

"Wanna join?" he offers. "I- would love it, but I'd only slow you down." I say, trying to not look directly at him. He's like the child of Sun, burning bright. I can't help but feel happier just looking at him.

"That's okay. Come on." He insists.

"Okay." I walk out behind him, and we walk out of the bunker.

.

.

For some time, neither of us talks. We just run, and I try to keep up with Sam. He's fast, steady and graceful in his movements. I sense he's slowing down for me.

We stop after some time, and Sam leans against a tree, while I bend over clutching my knees, trying to steady my breath.

"Sorry I'm slowing you down." I say, after I'd caught my breath.

"It's fine." He says, chuckling.

"I have never run so much in my entire life," I say, dramatically, sitting down at the edge of the road. "You don't exercise much, do you?" he asks.

"Nah- just occasional stretching, and yoga, and sometimes sports." I'm a little abashed.

"What do you play?"

"Volleyball, Cricket, Badminton." I tell him.

"Oh. Good."

We sit there for a few minutes and then Sam offers me his hand, which I take and stand up, and we're running back to the bunker. I am more easily running now, having warmed up. We get in, trying to make less noise. It's almost eight now, and the morning air around the Bunker had been so good.

We walk to the living room, where Sam announces he'll get breakfast ready after a shower. "If you want coffee, there's some in the kitchen."

"Thanks, but-

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to shower too." I tell him, and stand there.

"Okay-

"Clothes, Sam. I have no clothes." I explain.

He stands there, thinking. "Let me see what I can do." he says, walking towards the bedrooms.

He walks into his room, and I stand outside, observing the room. There are books on almost all table and cabinet tops. His bed's clean, and there's duffel in the corner on the floor.

He rummages through a drawer, "Here's my old T shirt, and sweatpants." He hands me the clothes. "Thanks, Sam." I am about to walk out, when I see he's coming with me. "Shower adjustments." He says.

He shows me how to work the showers, and leaves. I take my sweet time getting clean. The water's warm, it feels good on my skin.

He's given me a towel too, and it's his, I assume, since it nearly covers my whole body. _(Oh my god oh my god think – using Sam's towel – SAMMY! It smells like him probably, I think, sniffing the towel before using, the fan inside me is ranting the whole time. I just replay all the times I've seen Sam do various mundane things since I've been here. Silly, yet very satisfying!)_

I wash all my old clothes, except the jeans. It's a good thing that I have an adjoining bathroom to my room. Later, I put on the clothes, which are HUGE for me.

And they smell sweet, a smell that I can't define. I roll up the T shirt sleeves a little, and I fold the ends of the sweatpants a whole lot. It's got drawstrings, so I can adjust the waist, and I tighten it, trying the ends together.

The clean clothes feel soft against my body. I feel a little cold since they're so loose. I walk a little in the room, feeling the warmer with movement. I want to know the time, but I still can't, my phone being in Dean's room.

There's a knock on my door, which I had bolted before I went to shower. "Raina?"

"Coming!" I shout as I walk up to the door and open it.

Sam's standing in the door. "Breakfast!" he smiles, motioning me to follow. He chuckles a little at the clothes, I notice, since they're nearly hanging off of me.

We walk to the kitchen, and there is a bowl of milk and cereal. "That fine for you?" he asks, and I nod, picking up a spoon.

Sam joins me with his own bowl at the table, and we finish the breakfast without talking. After, I insist on clearing up.

.

.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

I've finished getting through the book. Sam is in his room, working at something.

I get up, and walk to Sam's room, to ask what time it was. Somehow, not knowing the time is making me a little uncomfortable. With the bunker you can never tell time, and its unsettling me.

 _._

 _Counting. Breaths, moments and seconds. Measuring something that's infinite, and yet we have so less of it to spend._

 _It is such a disconcerting concept, with its fickle tendencies to slow or speed up._

 _But Time brings things together. And Time takes things away._

 _Time shapes everyone and everything, more like Nature than Nature herself._

 _What is my time here going to do to me? What should I do in the time I have here?_

.

"Sam?" I knock, and I hear, "Come in."

"What's the time?"

"It's uh- he checks his phone. "It's Ten-twenty."

"What'chu doin?"

"Still working – I'm uh…

Sam hesitates, I see.

"You know I know everything, Sam. Almost, I mean. So I will probably figure out what you're working on. Is it a new case? Wait no. It's Lucifer. Isn't it? That's what Cass is doing. He's chasing Lucifer."

Sam looks surprised, and then smiles resignedly. "Ohkay, fine. Yeah. Cass is out looking for Lucifer. He's a, burning through vessels, but so far, No sign. Last I heard it was family – of four." Sam informs me.

"Oh my god."

"Yeah. And after that, I think Cass met Crowley, and ever since then he hasn't called, or picked up his phone. I don't know what they're doing." Sam looks slightly worried.

"Wow. Cass and Crowley?" I giggle in spite of myself. "An Angel and a Demon walk into a bar… I once wrote a poem on that you know?" I said, just making a comment.

"You write poetry too?"

I nod, rummaging through the books on Sam's bed. "Did you go through the book I gave you yesterday?" Sam asks.

"Yup. All done." I say, handing him the book back.

"Already?" Sam's surprised. I nod again, smiling that I seem to have impressed him. "So you like to read?"

"Duh, Yeah!" I say, enthusiastically. "I'm a bookworm."

And then, an hour is happily spent in discussion of different books we've read over time.

We're in a debate about which sarcastic humor is good, when we hear footsteps, and Dean appears at the door.

.

 _Bedraggled, he's a glorious mess. Anything I say will already have been said, but I'll still say that NOBODY should be ALLOWED to look that good._

 _I'm staring. Point blank. Unabashed, unashamed, directly._

 _Hmm. I must REALLY be the luckiest girl - to get to see this._

He's groggy, rubbing his eyes with one hand's fingers, while running the other hand through his hair. Still dressed in loose sweats that hung from his hips, hiding the famous bow-legs, he's looking at both of us through sleepy-eyes.

"G'mornin'," he rumbles out, in his deep voice.

 _Ah, the fangirl inside me has died over and over of just fainting at each of Dean's actions._

"Good morning, Dean." I say, smiling widely, feeling oddly happy somewhere deep inside me.

"Wow, Dean. You actually managed to wake up before afternoon today." Sam commented.

"Well, I'd slept early." Dean quips back. Sam smiles, as I look from Dean to Sam.

"What've you been up to all morning?" Dean says, seeing books all around.

"Looking for clues, Dean." Sam answers.

"No, her." he says, walking in the room, and sitting down beside me at the foot of the bed.

"Went for a run, had breakfast, finished reading a book, and me and Sam, we were talking about books." I say, realizing as I finish that this will earn us a comment.

"Wow. You're like the Nerd over here then?" He asks, pointing towards Sam with a shake of his head. "Ya-huh." I reply, nodding.

"Whoa. Two nerds in the same house. What am I going to do?" He says, raising his hands up.

"Hmmm," I say, tapping my chin with a finger, "We could always watch movies," I suggest. "Or maybe you can teach me use a gun."

"Hmm. Can you aim at all?" he asks, standing up.

"I don't know. I've good aim, I'm not sure if it's good enough for a gun." I say nonchalantly.

Dean walks back out. I turn back, and rummage through all the books on the bed.

.

"Um, why do you want to learn to shoot?" Sam asks.

"I – I think I may need it." I answer, casually. I'm trying to learn to hunt, even if I'm petrified of actually hunting. I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do about that fear. But afraid or not, knowing how to hunt will only be an advantage.

"Something you want to elaborate on?" Sam asks, knowing expertly that he wasn't getting the whole story.

I tell him, "I want to know. For at least protecting myself."

Sam nods understanding me. "Raina, I'm really sorry for all this happening to you. You know, being pulled out of your home and flung here of all places. I can imagine the shock. I know it's different for you though." This brings me some sort of constrictions in my heart, and I feel myself chocking up a little.

"Thanks Sam. But don't be sorry, it's not your fault." I say. For a few seconds none of say anything.

"Um- are you- do you want to hunt?" he asks, breaking the silence.

"Well, not exactly. I'm horrible at physical fighting, I only know so much about hunting that the show's taught me, so I don't think I'm ready to hunt yet. But I want to know, and learn. I can't stay in this world and not know to hunt." I explain.

"Well, you're not wrong. But-

"Sam, come on. I'm not joining the life so soon. But I can't go to college here, can I?"

"Fine, okay. I think you should start with some reading though."

"Alright. If you don't mind, I'd really like to see your Dad's journal. It's a good start as any."

"Oh yeah," Sam realizes. "I think Dean's got it. He's probably in his room."

I nod. "I'll take it from him later." I say, resuming the book he's given me, related to finding out how to get me home.

"Your English," Sam begins, "You speak very well for someone with English as foreign language."

"I've always loved English. I love my mother tongue too, but English and I have always been pals. All my education was in English." I tell Sam.

"Oh." We both resume reading, both of us then lost until Dean comes in, demanding lunch.

.

.

After lunch, I walk up to Dean's door, and give a small knock. It's a couple of minutes before I hear, "Come In!"

I push the door slightly, and Dean's on his bed, leaning against the headboard, with his headphones plugged into the laptop on his lap.

"Hey." He removes the headphones and slings them on his neck.

"Um, Sam said you might have your Dad's journal." I say shyly.

"Hmm, its – uh it's in that drawer I think." Dean points to a top drawer near the desk. I walk to it, and slowly open it.

There sits that leather bound old diary, and it's like picking up an heirloom, which it technically has become, and I smell it, like I always do a new book.

"So why does he want it?" Dean asks.

"Oh, I wanted to see it. I – I wanted to learn a little about hunting, and where better to start than this – where it all started." I tell Dean.

He motions me to come and sit on the bed. "Do you want to hunt?" he asks me too.

"I'm not a great fighter." I say, shaking my head, "I just want to stay aware, because I can't live in this world unprotected. I should at least know what kills what, how to recognize monsters, how many there are and so on." I shrug a little.

"You know this life-

"I know." I have heard Dean's 'Take an out if you get it' speech, thanks to the show.

"Oh, you do, do you?" His voice is all sarcasm.

"Well, I do know the topic and your views on it."

"What?"

"I – I know you think this is no life for anyone, and if anyone gets a chance at normal, they should take it."

"Yeah." Dean's looking at me with new attention.

"But even when I'm living my normal life, is it not common sense to protect my home with salt lines?" I ask. He just nods a little.

"I just want to know the supernatural mechanism. If I know, there's a less chance that I'll die. And my normal just disappeared, you know."

He doesn't respond. He's thinking it over.

.

I walk to the library, and spend a few hours finishing the book on angel lore that Sam gave me this morning. And still – nothing to help me. I cannot find any mention of inter-dimensional travel, although it says that angels can travel through time and space.

It's way past evening – almost night time according to my phone, and so as a change I begin on John's journal. Its time I explored that heirloom.

The leathery smell captures me as I lift the journal, and open it. The pages are a little yellow, but it is an old book. I remember Cass saying that John's handwriting was good, and I can't help but agree.

It is slightly difficult to read, since I have to decipher the notes in the margins, and follow scribbled timelines, and cut-outs. But I try, and slowly I have a link established. I sit in the library, working away at the journal.

.

.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

.

I have no idea how I came to be in my bed. I roll over, and reach for my phone which I see on the bedside table. 4 a.m.

How did I get here?

I remember reading in the library – and then I remember the nightmare.

Now all of a sudden I'm wide awake, and no matter how much I try, I cannot fall asleep. The nightmare keeps coming back.

Each moment feels more suffocating than the previous, and tears are at the corner of my eye, threatening to fall out.

 _._

 _Wondered what it feels like, discovering your Demons._

 _Now I know what it feels like, fighting your Demons._

 _Maybe someday, I vow, that I'll know what it feels like to win over your Demons._

.

I get up, and walk out, intending to read again. What else to do?

I see on the table in the library the journal. There's piece of paper in it, marking where I'd stopped. I get back into the seat, and begin to read.

I'm halfway through, when I hear footsteps. "Hey." Sam's awake.

"Good morning, Sam," I say, not looking up from the book. "You're back at that?"

"Yeah." I nod, now looking at him. He's into his running clothes.

"You're going running?"

"Yeah. It's kind of a morning routine. You wanna come too?" He smiles, looking down at me. _Good morning, Raina, I think as I look at him._

"UM – yeah." I decide on the spur of the moment.

.

.

We stop for short break in the middle of the run again.

"You sleep well?" Sam asks, as I rub my eyes.

"Um – I don't know how I got in the bed last night." I reply, trying to avoid direct answer.

"Oh. I saw you fell asleep in the library, around three-ish I guess. So I woke you and you walked to your room." Sam answered, a little sheepishly.

"Thanks, Sam. I don't even remember that."

"That's okay. You must have been in deep sleep." Sam says. _No Sam, I was in the nightmare: too stunned to save my Mom, who was d –, I can't even say it in my head._ I just nod, and we start to run again.

.

.

I shower after the run, changing into my old clothes. I come down, to see breakfast – milkshake and some weird thing on the plate. "What's this?"

"Oatmeal."

"Really?" I've had oatmeal before and I don't like it. But I don't say anything more and start eating my portion. "You just sounded like Dean." Sam said, starting to eat too.

I smile at that. "I uh – just, Thanks, Sam." I say. I know he's doing so much for me, just by keeping me here.

.

.

.

.

It's been a five days now, and I have started to spiral.

I always wondered what it would be like to live on my own. But I never imagined this. – well, not seriously.

I'm past the stage of fan-girling over the boys constantly in my head – it's just occasional, since I'm not ever going to get completely used to them, but at least my inner self isn't constantly swooning.

Sam and I – we've fallen into a pattern of reading and eating and exercising together. All I've done for the past few days – five to be precise – I'm keeping count – is nothing significant. We're all going over the known lore to see if we can send me back. But so far, we've found nothing.

With Dean, it's more of an awkward situation. I am awed, and I don't know what to say to him, and I don't think he knows what to say to me. We just nod to each other, smile, sometimes talk about a hunting info or something. I am definitely intimidated by him.

.

Sleeping had never been an issue in my life before. I fell asleep as soon as I hit the bed.

Now, I fall asleep, and within a few minutes, my memories crop up, like I'm forced to watch my own life, and I can't stop crying. The true memories were still okay to bear, but it started to morph into gruesome images of my family not recognizing me, my friends in trouble, and then sometimes, dying.

Sometimes I'm just running, into endless darkness on an unknown road. Suddenly I see someone familiar – mom, dad, a friend, anyone, - and they can't seem to hear me, or see me.

Within five – six minutes I'm awake, breathing hitched, tear-stained face, and a racing heart. After that, I never can fall asleep.

I've tried to fight it; my songs were no help – they just gave me more vivid nightmares. I tried prayers, and counting¸ and tiring my eyes out with phone. Nothing works.

I have wanted to tell Sam – he's gone through not sleeping when he was being plagued by Lucifer. But since Lucifer himself is out there, and Cass hasn't been answering … In such situation I don't want to alarm him. I still catch some sleep, just not in a single go. So I ignore the troubles.

.

.

.

.

Sam and I are in his room. He's watching something online, and I'm reading. I just couldn't sit alone in the library, so I came into Sam's room.

"Hey." Dean pops his head in the room. "Yeah?" Sam asks.

"Going out for a supply run. Thought I could take the kid, get her a few things." He asks, looking at me.

I have been making do for a lot of things these few days. Just today, I asked Sam for some earphones. This, I believe must be the longest I've gone without music in my ear constantly. So I nod. Sam agrees too. "Good. You'll be back when-

"Why don't you come too?" I interrupt without realizing. I want both the boys with me.

"Oh- well, okay." Sam considers and nods.

"Go get ready then." Dean tells me, and leaves. I pick up my book, and go get changed.

.

Well, I am nearly tired with trying to hold my giggles and fangirl-ing within me. THE BABY!

I am stunned at the sight of the glistening car, sitting in the garage, as we walk up to her. I FEEL why Dean loves her now, more so. She is so gorgeous.

Dean looking at me, expecting me to comment or give a reaction.

"Oh Baby," I sigh, looking at her, fearing if touch she'll melt.

Dean smiles, widely. Sam's already in, looking at me through the window. "Get in."

"Mhmm." I say to Sam, but I still don't move. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I get it. Why she's so – what she is to you." I say, not looking at him, but at the car. I walk in and get in the back seat, before Dean's replied anything.

Dean gets in behind the wheel. "I like you, kid. You got great taste." He says, smiling, starting the car. The rumble, I – I just close my eyes, and pay attention to the sound.

"That's music." I say, and Dean chuckles, "that's what I say."

"I know." I say, not opening my eyes.

.

.


End file.
